Of War, Princes, and Persistent Suitors
by Tempos
Summary: A Queen's life is never a simple one. Not Queen Elsa's, at least. To say, hers is a mixture of 3 ever present suitors, 2 handsome brothers, 1 manic sister, 2 conniving younger cousins, and 1 very serious territorial tug of war. What's a Queen to do when the age of conquer has officially begun? AU with OCs. To the kids who like the slowpoke pace. [War. Politics. Adventure.]
1. Chapter 1: Intake of Breath

**Hey! I'm back! Sort of. **

**Anyway, I decided to write a fic for Jelsa, since I'm very much in love with those two. **

**Disclaimer:** Okay, you guys know I don't own Rise of the Guardians and/or Frozen. Disney and Dreamworks, you know what's yours and I don't intend to claim ownership over what's not mine. Jack and the other recognizable characters from the two animated films do not belong to me. The plot and the additional characters though, do belong to me. And yep, I'm just a bored teenager and I don't wanna step on anyone's ownership. What's yours is yours, and what's mine is mine. So yeah, got that cleared.

Enjoy the story, guys. :)

And oh yeah, haha, please stay with me. *whispers I love you* Although I can't promise a flawless logical plot that will be faithful all the way to its era of setting, I will try to keep it together.

Warning: **This is a slow fic, guys.** **I don't think that Elsa and Jack should fall in love (plummet in love rather) too fast in this fic. Well, I do write fluffy oneshots but I like to take my time in multichaps. I'll try my hardest to make this realistic (drat if I fail). ;) But I do believe that love takes time. ;)**

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Arendelle found it hard to understand why their beautiful Queen continuously refused countless proposals.

Many of the citizens found it amusing that royals from isles of varying distances sailed to Arendelle with their majestic ships, only to ask for her hand in marriage. A huge fraction of why they found this entertaining would be the vessels themselves, for every one adorned the culture of its home. Each foreign paraphernalia amazed the innocent northern folk, and so they looked forward to each new docking.

The grapevine was also particularly alive with news of the foreign royals**—**bachelors. They were charming men—ranging from ginger to blonde, freckly to fair, tall to just right. But not only did they range in physical appearances, for they also did in attitude, which led to the ranking of favorites and least favorites according to the masses. There were a few who were plainly arrogant. There were the gold-obsessed. There were the snow enthusiasts who obviously were all trying a little too hard, and of course, that which none can ever forget, the gluttonous.

In contrast to those extremist single sided men, there were also the perfects inside and out, with teeth whiter than pearls and impeccable manners—whose balance the Libra scale would never deny, men that caused probably more than half of the bafflement of the entire kingdom.

Nevertheless, though presenting an array of likenesses and differences, every single prince who tried to woo the Queen sailed back to their own kingdoms with a tad dimness to their step.

It wasn't at all that every single bachelor was hideous and unacceptable in Elsa's eyes. There were some, like Prince Francis of Nergond perhaps, who were impossible not to be regarded as objects of beauty. Even Anna shook her head as the golden and blue vessel left Arendelle's port.  
She was, after all, rooting for him the moment he set foot on the port's damp floorboards.  
The Nergish royal family line had just the best of genes—for even the young prince's facial proportions seemed chiseled with absolute precision and patience by Bragi.  
But, just as the case of the other eligible bachelors, despite his utter perfection, Queen Elsa just couldn't see him as Arendelle's future throne holder.  
She was very much convinced that she possessed the ability to rule her entire kingdom, have it expand its borders if it be an eventual need even, without the help of a king.

Most of these men took the Queen's first refusal and sailed back to their own kingdoms in hopes of finding another alliance. But there were also the three persistent suitors, who visited the kingdom every change in season, who have been given their own royal descriptions by the townsfolk themselves—Prince Francis the perfect, Prince Donovan the exaggerated, and Prince Gavin the gluttonous.

These men, much to Queen Elsa's dismay, did not have "stop" in their vocabulary.

Nonetheless, the Snow Queen knew all of it was connected to grimmer interkingdom matters.

Though it all looked flattering, the setting behind was an entirely different tale.  
The trade industry was slowly falling. What used to be the full markets of Arendelle now had just the right amount of stocks for the change in season.

Kingdoms were forming alliances in a hasty manner, and Elsa knew just why.  
Gone were the days of peaceful individuality. Since the strong alliances opted for expansion, they've begun the age of conquer. There were only two options to consider—conquer, or be conquered yourself.  
Much to the Queen's slight relief, her kingdom sat on the farthest end of the country, locked in by walls of mountain ranges and isolated far north of the mainland by the Great Lake.

But days were passing by and alliances were expanding one unarmed wood at a time.

* * *

The young Queen's ears twitched to the three consecutive knocks that filled her study.

Dropping her quill back into the ink bottle, she hastily folded the letter on her desk into an envelope, stamped it with wax and the seal of her ring, and quickly stuffed it inside the nearest drawer before nodding to her maids.

Both gracefully twisted the knobs and in, without any formality or bashfulness, came sauntering her royal cousin, regally clad in his formal wear.

"Elsaaaaaaa," with a huff, the young prince slouched on one corner of the Queen's desk, his face flat against the wood. "I'm pretty certain I'll die faster here than in Borgin, just so you know."

The queen, for the umpteenth time that month, rolled her eyes at their newest 'adoption.'  
"Well much to your disappointment, your parents thought otherwise, which explains why you're now temporarily living in a valley instead of your majestic kingdom on the east. Where's Edmund? Why don't you go have fun with Olaf?"

The eleven year old groaned and started banging his forehead repeatedly on the oak desk. "I can fight. You know that. And to add to that, I'M heir to the throne. I have a responsibility in my own castle. I can't just wait here in safety while those other kingdoms run over mine."

Finally stopping, the prince dragged the nearest chair to him and slumped down, rubbing his reddening forehead. "Why can't Father see that?"

"Because, dear William, you're ELEVEN." Anna walked in casually to their young cousin and ruffled his chestnut hair, making the wild tendrils face even more confusing directions. "And you're the ONLY heir, just in case you failed to notice."

"If in an instance that you get, say, hewn in the middle of the chaos, then your line would be, I don't know, just probably broken, that's all." Anna snorted, contrary to the princess etiquette.

Nevertheless, her eyes softened when William looked even more miserable on the foamed chair.  
"But I know for sure that they'll be fine. Your Father would never let anything wrong happen to Borgin." Rubbing her cousin's back in comfort, she gave her sister a sad smile.  
"They just had to be sure you were out of danger. Besides, Edmund's stuck in exactly the same situation as you are." Anna lightly chucked, and lowered one tier of her dress, which was, to the young prince's delight, where she carried a vast collection of sweets.  
"Want some chocolates?" Elsa wasn't surprised, and shook her head, knowing her sister probably came all the way from the kitchens and nagged their head cook to unlock their chocolate vault.

One of the palace servants interrupted with a clearing of his throat. "Excuse me, my Queen, your highnesses. The guests are awaiting your presence at the dinner table."

"Thank you, Harold. We'll be there in a few minutes." With a nod, Elsa dismissed her servants. The light mood between the three vanished the moment the maids shut the double doors of the study.

Elsa slowly stood up and walked to the ceiling-high window that towered behind her desk, and stared down on the expanse of her kingdom.

Winter.

Apart from the fact that it was her favorite season, it calmed her nerves to know that it would temporarily bring a halt to the conquering, and even for just a season, Arendelle, Danad, and Borgin were going to be safe.

Leading an army to battle in the days of the frost, she knew just like any other human in their right mind, would be a complete nightmare. She stared on at the calm snowfall.

"Let's go," she sighed, her eyes shut. When she turned back to the other two occupants of the room, she already had a small smile plastered on her face.

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Author's note: Although I most definitely won't force you to R&amp;R ( that's read and review for the baby ficcers), I would appreciate it if you would. Just tell me whatever's in your mind right now. lol

And of course, whether you liked the story, or, hated it? I guess. Just review. :)

It can range from nonsense to flame, whatever. Plus, constructive criticism is warmly welcomed in my house. ;)

So shoot.

till my next update, guys. :D

PS. I'll try my best to stick to updating every Friday. :)


	2. Chapter 2: The 7-kingdom Alliance

Heyyy! Here's the second chapter and I'm sorry if it's a bit sketchy. I know it's a bit sketchy. *sigh* Vacay's not really a smooth one. Had to deal with other stuff that just popped out of nowhere and somehow, I was able to squeeze this chapter in between all the fuzz and yeah, there you have it.

I'm not quite satisfied with it yet (guess I'm gonna edit the entire multichap after I finish it).

Disclaimer on chap 1 is applicable to the rest of this multichap.

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**ATTENTION!**

**1.) I uploaded the map for this fic. Yeah. I'm no expert cartographer but there's a link to the map on my bio. :)**

**2.) Jack and Jacob are the same. I couldn't think of a formal name for Jack that would fit his character so I used Jacob instead. :)) I'm sorry if it wasn't clear but Jack and Jacob are the same person. **

**3.) Guns haven't been invented yet, but they use cannons here. **

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Elsa's eye twitched at the sight of the long table. Regal did the table runners make it, complete with the best tableware in Arendelle, but it just had to be put off. Her memory of how it once looked so regal and fine and how it used to be the epitome of class back when she had only been a little girl undesirably got marred by the new sight of the long table.

Anna laughed nervously at her sister, while shaking the contents of her goblet. "Fine night, don't you think?"

William and Edmund were too busy with their ritualistic _dinnertime barter_—wherein the former traded his green peas for the latter's bowl of mashed potatoes-to notice their irked cousin Queen.

It was, after all, the first week of winter, and both boys already expected the scenario. Queen Elsa's suitors were, yet again, none other than present, on the royal long table. The three men have visited the kingdom for five consecutive season changes now and the boys paid little attention to them. It was not like they were their business after all. When it came to the long table, only green peas and mashed potatoes were their business. Nothing more and nothing less, unless of course, if there were better things to trade.

Anna couldn't feel her cheeks, nor could she count the several nods she already did while facing Prince Donovan's parents. The king was boasting about his third kill the week before, and how he had wondrously shot the arrow exactly between the eyes of the stag he had hunted. "Argh, but ye haven't 'eard nothin' yet, lassie." The stout man grinned proudly, and Anna noticed a bit of parsley that seemed to have found a home in between the king's front teeth. Her forced smile faltered for a second. She didn't need any better reason to enlighten her as to just why Prince Donovan was cleared from the list right after his first meeting with her sister. The king's booming voice hauled her back to earth. "It might be hard to believe but I 'ad te battle e rabid bear, had te smash its head with mah bare hands before I got te the stag there."

Only when Harold cleared his throat, something Elsa thought came with the package of being a butler, did she notice that the spoon in her hand had already been frozen halfway. Gasping, she quickly laid it down on her napkin. She could sense a coming migraine as her temples mildly throbbed.

The elderly castle servant whispered, "Your majesty, four men wait by the gate, saying that they come to see the Queen."

Elsa's eyebrows furrowed. She couldn't remember having an appointment that day, apart from the seasonal dinner. Neither could she recall filing one with four men, and certainly not in that particular hour. "Where did they say they came from?" She whispered back.

"Two from Targon, your majesty. The third bore the crest of Danad, and the fourth, that of Borgin."

The two sisters exchanged glances, all thoughts and regrets about dinner forgotten for a moment. "If you'd excuse me, I have to attend to a few things." With that, Elsa rose from the center seat and exited the hall.

* * *

Targon. It was the kingdom that sat a good number of leagues south of Arendelle, past Nergond, Gribold, and Sernu, about a couple of miles west of Borgin and Danad. It sat in the middle of the Ergamoth, towering over the plains of Radmar and Bendir. **(AN: the maaaaap. lol)**

"I still disagree of your following us, Jack." Behind the portcullis of Arendelle's castle, four hooded men waited with their horses.

One nonchalantly jumped down from his mount and took off his hood, revealing a young and handsome face. "I can't believe you're still irritated after having crossed who-knows-what-number-of-leagues just to get here." He was tall and slender, nothing near the lines of buff and burly, but rather more of fit.

"You know I'd rather defend our kingdom than ride," dismounted the other.

Jack laughed, moving over to rummage the contents of his brother's satchel. "Exactly, dearest brother of mine." He pulled out a carrot and walked to his horse. "Which is why Father should have sent his second son for this errand instead."

"An errand that requires a huge amount of persuasion and a minimal to no amount of immaturity, only a complete dolt would send you." The older one snorted but smirked nonetheless, and ruffled his younger brother's brown mess of hair. "To add to that, you're the undeniably hardheaded son."

Jack swished the carrot in front of his brother's face. "I'm quite proud of that distinguishing feature, thank you. Besides," He exhaled, seeing his breath fog up against the winter air. "it's winter, Erik." He then grabbed a handful of snow and threw it, purposely missing his brother's forehead by a hair. "It's always been my weather. We both know how much you hate the cold." Sighing, the younger stared at the snow-capped rooftops of the village houses near the castle. "And I doubt any king in their right mind would send an army to conquer in this weather."

Just then, the portcullis was slowly hoisted up, and the thick steel-barred wooden doors of the castle were pulled open. The men held the reins of their mounts and ushered the horses into the bailey.

The castle, all four noticed, was a beauty of contrasts. It didn't sport the same intimidating stone glory of Danad and Borgin's castles, nor could it battle the tall towers and turrets of Targon's. Rather, it shone with a different beauty. Jack thought that it looked more like a manor built into a castle—with its second and next stories beautifully timber-framed, and its towers of grey brick. Guards and archers stood in organized lines and positions on the battlements, the towers, and even on every level of the castle.

Arendelle was a rose-beautiful, with sculptures, fountains, waterfalls, and vast gardens. Pick it not though, if you're unarmed against the thorns that lie hidden behind its petals, for the number of adornments on the castle was of the same number of guards it had.

"Harold informed me that you wished to see the Queen?" Standing in front of the double doors was none other than the royal they were looking for, the unstable shadows created by the two torches by the doors playing in her background. The four had never seen a royal who could rival her beauty that night. She wore a gown that looked exactly like the night sky above them-dark navy with small jewels as stars. Her long platinum locks in a loose french braid that lazily rested on her bare right shoulder. And Jack noticed, that almost made his lips twitch to a smile, that the Queen, unlike all the other Queens he'd seen before, wore little to no amount of makeup, and yet she shone brighter than every woman he'd seen before.

All four men went down on their knees, heads down at the sight of the young Queen. To their surprise, she chuckled. "Please. You must know I'm not one particularly strict with formalities, especially to friends of Arendelle."

The four slowly stood up.

"Might I know your names?"

The young man who bore the crest of Danad spoke first, introducing himself as he held his right hand over his heart, head down.

"Your majesty, I am Jarle, sent by King Henrik of Danad."

"My name is Espen, your majesty, son of Jorgen, brother to King Fredrik of Borgin," continued the other.

Last to introduce were the brothers, who could have passed for twins had time not made the difference in their ages quite evident. "We are the sons of Bjorn, your majesty, King of the mountain fortress of Targon."

"I am Prince Erik," started the older brother.

"And I am Prince Jacob, your majesty," finished the younger.

Elsa courteously bowed. "What errand brings you to our kingdom?"

Espen, the young man who bore the crest of Borgin on his chest, spoke first. "Your majesty, we come in behalf of the alliance between Targon, Danad, and Borgin. Our kings sent us to deliver this letter. Other messengers bearing the same letter have also been sent to the kingdoms of Sernu, Nergond, and Gribold." He then stepped forward and kneeled in front of the Queen and her servants, the letter in his hands he extended to the royal.

Elsa whispered sideways to Harold after accepting the letter, "Inform the visitors that we will be having some company in the table." With a curt nod, the elderly man turned to leave.

"Oh, and Harold," the Queen sent her servant a withering look. "Please tell the maids to _restore _order."

Harold nodded once more, a knowing smile defining the wrinkles on his face. "Of course, your majesty." With a last bow, he left with his maids and headed back to the hall.

"I want to hear news about your kingdoms—any sight of enemies in the vicinity, or threats perhaps?" The Queen inquired, a hint of worry on her face as she faced the four messengers. She had just been able to distract William and Edmund from the war with Olaf's help, but on some nights, the two would lose sleep, anxious about the safety of their own kingdoms, and of course, their parents.

"Borgin remains safe, your majesty. No reports of sightings across the plains either."

"Danad too remains safe, your majesty."

"None of our watchers reported of sightings either, though we fear that the conquering will continue when the winter lifts."

Elsa sighed. "That is something we do not need foretelling to be sure of, Prince Erik." She hurriedly placed her smile back on though. "Nevertheless, I'm glad to hear that your kingdoms sleep in peace."

She turned to the two on the right. "Especially for Borgin and Danad, your princes will be relie-"

"Where's my father?!" Cutting his cousin short, Prince William ran outside the castle, eyes wild, paying no attention to the spoon that was still in his hand. Elsa sighed; she forgot that William's ears were extraordinarily keen.

Jarle and Espen exchanged humored glances as the young prince ran outside the castle.

More echoes reverberated on the main hall as the second young prince ran to the entrance. "And mine too! I want to see-woooah!" In his utter excitement, he failed to see the small puddle of soup on the floor, which he slipped on in his haste. Lunging to the doorway just in time to save the younger royal from crashing against the statue of Freyja, Elsa created a heap of snow behind Edmund. Much to her relief, her youngest cousin disappeared in the heap, scratchless, her mother's favorite statue, untouched.

"Haven't we talked about running in the halls, Edmund?"

"Sorry, Elsa!"

Letting a long sigh go, she returned to her guests, and tucked a stray tendril of blonde hair behind her ear. "Your princes, like I was about to say, would be glad to meet you. You must be exhausted, having traveled leagues to get here. Please, join us in the dinner table. We shall discuss the letter there as well."

"Sigurd, bring their horses to the stables."

Only when the Queen had turned her back at them and ushered her cousins back inside did the younger prince of Targon smirk. Nudging his brother, he whispered. "Where exactly is the maiden of dangerous ice powers that Father warned you of?"

* * *

Elsa was quite shocked, but more of grateful, to see the long table the moment she walked in with William and Edmund, and the four riders. Clutter was, for the first time in a seasonal dinner, not present. No soup dripping on the tassels of the table runners. Neither forks nor spoons lied on the floor. Prince Gavin's plate was a new one, and gone as well was the spoon she unknowingly froze halfway. Taking a sidelong glance at the maids who stood single file against the right wall of the hall, Elsa smiled. All the maids returned it, and so did Harold, for he took pride on being the head of the department.

"Your majesties, your highnesses, may I introduce our four visitors," Elsa started, facing the occupants of the long table.

"Jarle and Espen, royal messengers of Danad and Borgin." She gestured to the two young men to her right.

"And Princes Erik and Jacob," she then gestured to the nearly identical men who stood on her left, "royal princes to the kingdom of Targon."

The Queen proceeded to introducing the royal families to the four, but her sister had already retreated to her own scene.

Anna tried to keep her right brow from rising. Targon. At the mention of the kingdom, she quickly searched her brain. No. It definitely wasn't from the list of rejected bachelors, nor could she recall seeing a single letter sealed with the crest of the highland fortress. She slightly narrowed her eyes, and carefully regarded the two princes—they were alright, she thought—tall, fit, blue-eyed, and fair, with broad shoulders, and nice smiles. Her eyes moved to the younger-looking one and she mentally said _nice dimples._ Anna noted though, that the most noticeable thing about the two was that the gods obviously took their time creating them, perfecting them rather. Odin might have really been in a great mood, Anna thought, when he made the Targon siblings, and generous in giving handsomeness away too. She used to think that Hans was good-looking, but these two men put him to shame. If another royal family line can rival Prince Francis's, it would be theirs.

Her train of thought was cut short though, when the younger Targon prince spoke. "My brother and I, along with Espen and Jarle, we are all grateful to be given the honor to dine with the high royals of such great kingdoms." Anna mentally made a face of being impressed. He had a nice voice, neither too deep nor too high—exactly the right timbre—and it suited him well. Not to mention that he had teeth that could equal the whiteness of snow.

After scrutinizing the siblings, she asked herself yet another mental question. _Why hasn't Targon sent her sister a proposal yet?_ Not that she thought every single kingdom with a prince should, but kingdoms farther south, farther past the Ergamoth, actually did.

After the last wave of plates, much to Prince Gavin's dismay, was cleared, Elsa rose from the center seat. "I would like to call your attention regarding the errand that our four visitors came here for," she started. "They brought with them a letter from their kings, and I was informed that to your kingdoms—Sernu, Nergond, and Gribold—messengers have also been sent, bearing the same message."

"As you all know, the only thing that's keeping the northern lands from being invaded and conquered at the moment, is winter." All the occupants of the long table stared at the snow Queen, including the two younger princes. "Although we have a good five months of safety, the gods haven't blessed us a time to be lax about the conquering, for when the winter lifts, we know full well that it will resume."

Elsa sighed before raising the letter in her hand. "In this letter, Targon, Danad, and Borgin, are asking us to join their alliance." All the other occupants breathed the suspense in the hall, while Donovan and his parents furrowed their thick brows.

Before they could air their disagreement, Prince Francis spoke first. "Your majesty, we received this message the same day our vessel was to leave our kingdom's port. Nevertheless, my father and I have already discussed the matter."

He paused to share a glance with the king, and nodded to the four messengers. "Nergond accepts your request," he boyishly smirked, bowing with his hand over his chest after. "We are now brothers. You have our hand, and our entire fleet."

The four bowed to this, placing their hands over their hearts as a form of respect.

"We received y'ar letter a tad earlier an' y'av'ar ships as well," proudly grunted the king of Sernu as he pounded the table for emphasis. "Including all 'ar cutters." The Sernuans took pride on their vessels, being the largest kingdom of the north, and having the widest control over the great northern loch.

His son, who looked barbaric in every angle, joined in, his thick accent adding to his brutish image. "'Ar catapults will crush those darn ninnyhammers dare they invade our region."

This, too, earned smiles and bows from the messengers.

"It would be an honor to fight alongside Nergond and Sernu, your majesties," bowed Jarle, relief and joy clear on his young face.

Donovan, his eyebrows still furrowed, looked to his father, who, too, still had his own brows furrowed. When they received their letter, they had no plan to accept the request. With Sernu and Nergond in though, the two largest controllers of the northern waters, refusing would be a foolish idea. If Arendelle joins the alliance as well, the woodlands of Gribold would be trapped in between.

Elsa and Anna exchanged glances before the former smiled warmly at the two young princes who sat beside her sister, Edmund's hair still damp due to the snow. "Borgin and Danad have long been brothers to our kingdom. Brothers, even by blood, to our father." Edmund and William both showed proud faces having heard the latter part.

"With or without an alliance, Arendelle will come to their aid, and so will we to their friends," Elsa started. "With that said, Arendelle accepts your request," she continued as she gave the messengers a small smile, before bowing with her hand over her chest.

Gribold was the last kingdom left to decide, and the silence in the hall grew too awkward that Jarle and Espen grew uncharacteristically interested in the chandelier. Prince Erik stared at the royals stonily, his own brows threatening to furrow themselves.

Queen Elsa ended the silence, her tone a flat contrast to her warm greetings and compliments. "Your highness, if you need time to decide, that will be given you. Time indeed is a necessity," courteously smiled and nodded the young Queen.

"-if sense comes slow," she muttered under her breath, which made Anna bite her finger, Francis release a shaky sigh, and Jarle choke on his own saliva.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry there isn't much action in this chapter. :)) If you have constructive criticism for this chapter, shoot. :) The review box seems lonely.

Anyways, I'm happy I was able to stick to the Fridays plan (although it's Thursday today). Tell me what you think about the chapter, whatever it may be, really.

And by the way, I might introduce the enemies on the next chapter. I MIGHT. **MIGHT**. I'm still undecided. :))

Thanks for the support, my awesome readers. ;) Oh and yes, I would like to thank the awesomest beta reader in the universe. You know who you are. ;)

_**Au revoir, mes amis. Je vous adore**_ ~ 3


	3. Chapter 3: The Horrid Union

**AU: Okay, I'm SO sorry, guys. College life is GAH. I had so many things in my hands and I wasn't able to keep my Friday duties. Anyway, here's CHAP 3. It's, well, fragmented. Just tell me what you think about it. **

**PS:**

**I made a new map; turned out the old one had a defense too good for the attackers. SO YEAH, it's in my profile; just check it out.**

**REPLIES SECTION! :D (distant cheering)**

**Guest - (about Jack's name) **Hi! I actually considered that too. :)) But just to be completely honest, I kind of felt like it was more pop than royal (with MJ and all :))))) Anyway. I'm not saying MJ's not kingly. I mean, he's the freaking King of Pop! I'm just saying I didn't (and I still don't) feel like Jackson's a princely name for Jack. S'all. :D

**(about the proper way of addressing a Queen) **Dude! I swear to god I didn't know that. :)) Anyway, I edited it already. I'm just really glad you pointed that out or else I'll be writing the entire fic with that glaring error lol. Thanks again, btw!

* * *

COINCIDENCE? I THINK NOT.

_A series of red sparks illuminated the dark dank room, followed by groans of utter frustration._

_"__It's no use! Argh!" The female voice was cold and smooth, as if the words came from silken vocal chords. More sparks of differing red hues lit the room as they zoomed to collide with one of the room's walls, hitting a window and shattering the glass into a million shards and splinters. _

_The winter air angrily entered the room; the dryness and the cold coupling with the musty feel. _

_"__Have any luck, Poppet?" Asked a distant voice as footsteps slowly sounded closer. "Or are you still useless?" A smirk could be heard through the arrogant voice. _

_More sparks, but this time growls accompanied them. "I'll gladly turn you into a toad if not for this dratted winter!"_

_"__A-ah, that's not what you say to the king's son," answered the voice, dripping with dark humor, cold as the winter wind that breezed inside the room. _

_The sound of crackling fire was audible and the footsteps halted. There stood a man with a torch in his hand, the light of the flames licking the shadows away from his lean face. He was a medley—tremendously handsome, yet dark and mysterious. Green eyes, slick hair, a face without any freckles, fit and fair-unmistakably of royal descent. _

_The fire illuminated the dark room, which turned out to be a small poorly-lit cottage that had walls of stone and cobwebs as adornments. Blackening taxidermy heads lined the stone walls, a collection of the craniums of the woodland realm. Flasks of differing sizes were all over the place, containing bubbling concoctions ranging from poisonous green to blood red. Others contained butterflies, with abnormal prints on their wings—eyes that blinked and wept with black ink. Blue jays floated gray and lifeless inside a cauldron of foul liquid. Over on a slightly opened cabinet were jars of floating little figures, ghastly pale with blue veins scattering like spider webs on their skin. They could already have been big enough to play on the fields of the village had they not been bottled in a dark cabinet instead. _

_A young woman was sitting in the middle of the cottage, inside a circle of white ash, with 6 bottles of blue-jointed tarantulas carefully placed on the line of ash. She had a mane of unruly hair as black as soot, and canines sharper than the standard. She wore grey rags and worn-out boots, and both her arms were inked with uncanny figures and drawings. The lace on her bodice's first two pairs of lace holes was untied and loose. One cuff hung loosely on her shoulder, exposing a fair and flawless patch of pale untatted skin. She was a picture of mystery—like a drawing of black ink on pale white paper that came to life, everything about her was monochromatic. _

_"__Father found a way to lift this winter," was all she needed to hear. Her dark eyes darted to the sharply-dressed man in front of her as a menacing smile crossed her lips. "Then enlighten me, your highness. We have a lot of leagues yet to conquer in so little time."With a crack of her knuckles, the tarantula jars shook._

_The man smirked darkly, his crimson bangs falling on his forehead. "Not to rush, Poppet. We've got a hold of time on the throat," he chuckled. "A rather tight one, actually." Then there was that sadist smirk on those smooth lips once again._

Elsa woke up with a gasp, forehead, palms and neck glittering with beads of still cold sweat. She laid flat on her plush four-poster, breathing heavy in long heaves, hands scrunching up the silken sheets of her mattress. The moon shone its eerie glow through the cracks in between the thick wine velvet drapes, drawing slants of white light all over the Queen's quarters. With a jerk, she rose from the bed, grabbed the gas lamp, and headed outside.

She was surprised to see Anna exit her room the same time she did from hers, strawberry blonde tendrils facing a confusing set of directions. Her own lamp was also tightly clutched in her hands.

"Why are you up at this hour?" Elsa started walking, as Anna followed close. The latter's bedroom slippers scraping noisily against the wooden flooring of the wide corridor.

"I had a really disturbing dream," the ginger answered, a sweat bead running down her nose. "Thought of going outside to clear my head of it."

Elsa's pace slowed as she listened to her sister sleepily drawl in sentence fragments. "Had one too." Her voice was flat, as if she was trying to calm her nerves from the picture of the blackening fetuses inside jars. "So what was it about?"

Both were now standing on the roofed bridge that connected the bedchambers to the main hall—a bridge of round-edged cobblestones beautifully wrapped almost entirely in creeping ivy. Anna slowed her pace to glance at the moon—pale and radiant—a perfect circle in the starry night. She felt the cold creep onto her nape as she shivered, still staring at the ball of heavenly white stone.

"At first I saw red flickering lights against a black background," she started. "Then there was this girl talking in the dark."

Elsa's shoulders steeled, her ears momentarily shutting out her sister's detailed narration. "—but the most horrid part, was that there were babies."

"—they were in jars, and-"

"I think we both just woke up from the same dream."

Biting her lower lip in deep thought, the Queen stared on the lush gardens below the bridge. "Do you remember the book mom and dad always kept from you? The one on dad's desk."

Anna furrowed her brows, going a couple of years back. "You mean the maroon leatherback?"

"Yes."

WHEN IN DOUBT, GO TO THE LIBRARY

The library was well-lit, with torches and lamps, and table candles. It was, after all, one of the most used rooms of the castle, next to the private bedchambers, the loos, the long table hall, and the throne room. The royal family had been a line of bibliophiles since King Marius, second son to King Ivar IV, founder of the kingdom of Arendelle. The young monarch used to scale the high castle walls in his youth, sneak past all three kingdom wall levels, just to smuggle a few tomes from his friends from the village. It was in honor of him, and his sheer disobedience and love for books, that the palace library was built. Since Arendelle back then, was but a budding kingdom, it didn't have the ability to fill the royal library with tomes of different genres and purposes. Instead, the king opted for trade. The books from the surrounding kingdoms together made a great library; what used to be an empty room then overflowed with tomes of different genres—from medical to horror, from thin to thick, and from paperback to leatherback.

That was the same humongous library Elsa and Anna found themselves searching for a book in.

"I think I found it!" Anna yelled, a couple of rows away from her sister.

Both royals hurriedly scanned the old leatherback, candle dripping wax on the golden candle holder. Thin fingers gracefully flipped through old paper—past pages about goblins, sea serpents, rock trolls (which Anna smiled fondly at), and witches. Elsa was amazed at the state of the ancient leatherback. She could still recall its look as a child and it seemed like it didn't even age a day. The paper, though yellowing and old, didn't have dog ears or rips. The leather cover was still shining, as if it had only been polished yesterday. As for the golden inscriptions on its front cover, and the spiraling designs like gypsy prints, they reflected the light of the fire as real gold would.

Still searching the tome, along with other books discussing mysteries and unnatural occurrences, the royal siblings found themselves holed up inside the library. The sun was already out, peeking through the horizon and the thicket of trees. The only reason why no servant has called them for breakfast was because the Queen informed Harold that they were not to be disturbed in the library. And so with that, four guards have been stationed outside the library, and walking on its corridor was strictly ordered to be done extra silently not to disturb the royals.

Anna brought another book down in exasperation. "Another useless one here."

While her sister busied herself with a growing pile of different tomes, Elsa's eyes drank every detail of the old maroon leatherback. She read every related page with determination to find the answer to their case, but after a long while, she also set it carefully down on the table.

With a sigh, she turned the pages back to 85 and 86. "I wasn't able to find anything about coincidental dreams here either."

Anna peeked through the book she was reading herself—_Unusual Phenomena and the Creatures to Blame by Alixandre Drindle_ which covered dragons in impressive detail.

"Well, at least I found out that dragons hate hearing this _Nandor Horn. _Drives them crazy, it said so."

Elsa raised a brow at her sister, wordlessly saying _Honestly, Anna. I thought we were here to research about the dream._ "I did, however, learn that the rock trolls are usually headed by a wise leader. According to this book," The Queen pointed on the specific paragraph underneath the ink sketch of a rock troll. "the leaders know much about bizarre happenings, especially those connected to nature. They are also known to be readers of the stars."

Anna smiled at the fond memory of the small creatures and their rock potato-shaped noses, but her smile faltered for a moment. "Pabbie's the leader of the tribe in our woods," she said, putting her smile back as she placed a marker on the dragon page and setting the book down separate from her read pile.

"Since we have none else to ask, I'm thinking we should ask them about this. But we'll have to push that for later, considering that, well, _they're nocturnal_."

SO MUCH LIKE MY KING

Jack was surprised to see the elderly Butler waiting beside the guests' room the moment he stepped out, rubbing sleep off his eyes. Erik had never been a morning person, and since there weren't really any urgent matters to discuss at 5 am in the morning, he decided not to disturb his brother's rather deep, and comfortable, sleep. The older prince was a heap of snoring comforter on the farthest bed from the door. Besides, waking Erik was a nightmare that the servants suffered back in Targon and he wasn't, in any way, volunteering for that job in their place.

"Good morrow, Prince Jacob," bowed the butler.

"G'morning, Harold," sleepily replied the young prince, one hand on the doorknob, the other still rubbing his right eye.

Harold suppressed the urge to smile at the disheveled royal. He awfully reminded him of the late King Alexander, Queen Elsa and Princess Anna's deceased father. Harold was his personal servant, and watched him grow up, having served for the royal family since he was only twelve.

When he was but a young prince, he would also leave his bedchamber as disheveled as Prince Jacob, and Harold couldn't help but see his king in him. "Is there anything I can help you with, your highness?"

"Uhh, help me find the loo, I guess." Jack sheepishly smiled, brown bangs irritating his right eye.

"The Queen bid me to inform you and your companions that she has allowed your access to all of the castle's facilities for your convenience, of course, with the exclusion of their private royal bedchambers, studies, and the cellars." Harold flatly informed in his elderly tone, the moment the young Targon prince exited the bathroom. "The kitchens, the library, the halls, the musical room, the arts chamber, the stables as well-" Jack lightened up to this.

"Are the training grounds included?" The young prince smirked, turning to Harold. "For the archers, that is."

The butler nodded, "Our archers train on the open field on the second level of the kingdom. Anything else I can-"

But the young prince was already off, hurrying down the halls, ranger boots barely knocking on the wooden flooring. No winter would stop him from getting out of the castle anyway. Harold smiled amusedly, "So much like Alexander indeed."

Jack quickly headed back to the guests' bedchamber to gather his bow and quiver. When he entered the room, his darling brother was still snoring under the comforter. Jarle was in a more seemingly decent sleeping position—on the floor, that is, which very much explained the thud that woke him in the middle of the night. As for Espen, the knight seemed to have woken while he was gone. Nevertheless, the two remaining men were in the middle of a snoring competition, Jack figured. "Why am I not surprised," he muttered, shaking his head as he moved over to his bags.

When he was done tossing all that he needed on his bed, Jack shivered as he discarded his white undershirt. The morning sun was not hot enough to kill the winter cold as its rays entered the window and kissed his skin—a color between fair and tanned, as if he had been training under a canopy of leaves in the summer heat his entire life. It was partially true, for Targon, after all, was the kingdom of the Ergamoth, neighbor to vast kingless woods. It was high above plain grounds that Jack grew up training with the kingdom's rangers. He was fifteen when his father assigned him to an official team, and currently a young man of 24, he was already captaining his own band. Years of training and hunting sharpened not only his skills but, without any doubt, his form as well. Rid of the heavy winter cloaks they wore on their way to Arendelle, his biceps became more noticeable, arms as if perfectly sculpted. Torso naked, he bent over his bed to reach his tunic and as he pulled it over his head, moss green cotton hid his flawlessly chiseled midsection, once again. His belt didn't take much time to fasten, and Jack didn't really know if it was just easy work or if it was because he had been doing it for years. Lastly, he grabbed his bow and threw his quiver over his shoulder, not bothering to strap it before he exited the room.

THE FLAWLESS BOY'S FRATERNAL TWIN

Jack sped through the corridors, pausing every other while to give the other royal visitors bows whenever he passed by them, or when he had to greet Harold and the other servants with a quick good morning. The elderly servants found his childish personality uplifting, in contrast to the three persistent suitors and their parents. One was an extremely refined lad (who always had his parents in tow), the other was always raiding the kitchens (with an obsession over ale), and the third was all talk (not to mention he looked a little too scar-less to actually have gone through all those brawls and fights he always bragged about during dinners).

Jack ran into the first persistent suitor—the Nergish prince Francis—who turned out to be actually not that bad.

"Off on a hurry are we, Prince Jacob?" The prince had two servants following him, both carrying silver trays of food and tea.

Jack stopped and shrugged, bringing up his bow. "Morning training, I guess." Eyeing the two young servants, who were both smiling dreamily as they clutched the tray handles a little too tightly in his opinion. "Breakfast in bed?"

Francis chuckled, shaking his head and looking back at the two young servants (who both mentally squealed). "No, not for me at least. I'm not really a breakfast person. Mother and father are though." He turned back to the door and turned the knob, ushering the servants inside, before facing the Targon prince again, making sure he heard the click of the doorknob. "You mentioned training, if I heard correctly."

Jack nodded. "Not really a breakfast person myself either, I guess."

Making sure his royal parents didn't hear anything of his conversation with the other prince, Francis lowered down his voice, cautiously glancing back at the closed door. "Would you mind if I join you? I actually need a break from all the-"

Jack boyishly chuckled as he started walking slowly. He understood. Royal parents can be royal pains in the neck, especially in Francis' situation. He was silently glad his parents were nothing like Francis' ball and chain. Come to think of it, they were actually more of the opposite. "Not at all. Except those clothes don't look like they're going be comfortable for training, don't you think."

Francis brisk walked away from his parents' bedchamber. "Well, that's not a problem, really. You don't know how glad I am to be away from them even just for a while. I even cherish my time in the bathrooms, for Thor's sake." The Nergish prince rolled up his sleeves as they walked, and revealed a thin long-sleeve under his formal wear. "In case I get a chance, I'm always ready," he smirked.

"When you're born to parents like them," Francis facepalmed, letting his hand run down his face in exasperation. "And if you're NOTHING like them, you'll end up being creative."

Jack chuckled at the stressed prince walking beside him. _You sound so much like Jarle it's getting creepy. _

"By the looks of you, I'm guessing you're looking for the archers' training grounds. Because if we're heading there, we're going the wrong way."

AT LEAST THEY'RE SHARP SHOOTERS

"Well, this is…nice."

Francis briefly laughed at the Targon prince's reaction upon seeing the archers' training grounds.

Jack sent an arrow to one of the training dummies. It was not a surprise when it hit the exact bull's eye. The training fields were _nice, _in his opinion—with complete equipment and_ lots_ of elbow room. Literally. But for a man who grew up climbing trees and hunting in the vast woods that surrounded Targon, the fields were a little too…sissy.

"It's odd. I can remember Jarle saying that the Arendellian winter could be really harsh sometimes, being this far in the north, but the snow seems _thinner_ than yesterday, don't you think?" Jack kicked the snow, and he was surprised to see soil that fast. He could remember it to be ankle-deep just last night. Their horses' gallops were actually drowned in the thickness of it.

Francis steadied his bow as he answered, not bothering to look back. "In rare occasions, the Queen would control the winter up here, calm it when it gets too hard on the kingdom, so I heard."

Jack nodded, grabbing another arrow from his quiver, pushing his suspicion to the back of his head. "Speaking of the Queen, there's quite a competition you've got, eh?," he joked. He snatched it up some time in the morning from the servants that the three other princes were suitors to the Queen, and frankly enough, he thought only the Nergish royal should actually have the guts to woo her. Even the maids despised the other two, that Donovan particularly.

Francis smiled, obviously humored. "Oh, I wouldn't underestimate Gavin. He might use his catapults on me," said the prince, imagining Sernu's beloved battle device.

"Fish catapults?" the other prince chuckled.

"I do believe we have sardine and that they're better than Sernu's lakefish." The the Nergish prince laughed, facing the dummy once again. "In a battle of fish and ships, we've got the sea. Sernu chose the great loch, and I honestly think nothing can be more foolish than that. 'Would have been better if they chose both." Francis loaded his bow again, still muttering about lakefish and lesser sea creatures as he smirked against the arrow. "Like what William and Edmund say, they've been _sissy_ for too long. Besides, I'm not worried; this entire marrying ordeal wasn't chosen by me anyway. I honestly think it's unfair on both sides," he stated flatly, shooting the arrow.

Stopping midway in shooting another, Francis faced north. "By the way, this isn't really challenging," he raised a brow as he smirked, obviously changing the subject. "Since it looks to me that the Queen covered the forests as well this year. Would you like to train in the woods instead? That'll be about a few minutes ride from here."

Jack lightened up at this, not suppressing his smile. Training without obstacles and trees didn't feel like training at all. "To the stables, then."

TIME GONE DAFT

Jack easily warmed up to the Nergish prince as they both trained in the woods. Francis reminded him much of Jarle, a much more refined Jarle though. He was also surprised that the men of Nergond weren't just skilled in seafaring, but in archery and swordsmanship as well. For most of his life, Jack thought they only liked fish and nets. But then again, he shrugged it off; it was honestly a stupid thought.

The early sun lazily hung down on the kingdom, and Francis couldn't help but notice the seasonal change in his surroundings. It looked as if the Queen got a little too carried away and thinned the winter a tad too much that there was barely any snow on the branches. Arrow in hand, poised for the attack, his emerald eyes scanned the trees. The forest floor wasn't covered in a thick cloak of snow anymore, only particular parts were. Not to mention that the blanket was thin enough that their feet left soil tracks on the ground.

It was true that the Arendellian winter was usually too harsh for troops to continue their training outdoors, but this year's winter was different-noticeably different that the Queen had to control more than half of its power. It was as if they were already nearing the border of winter and spring as fast as the second week. Not to mention that the trees all had their leaves intact. _Elsa never mentioned having an evergreen forest beside their kingdom._

An arrow flew dangerously close to his right ear, and only then did he remember that he was in the middle of training with Prince Jacob.

Nevertheless, something was still off. And he made sure to pocket that observation and notify the Queen later.

But when his eyes fell on the clearing, he grew even more curious.

The blonde brought his arms down and placed his arrow back to its quiver. "Jacob!"

Jumping off a tree, the second prince sheathed his arrow and joined the other in the clearing.

"We left the castle at precisely 6 in the morning," Jack nodded to this, twirling his dagger in his hand. "And just a couple of minutes after that, we reached the clearing and resumed our sparring. That had hardly been an hour ago." Jack nodded again, raising an eyebrow at the interruption of their training. "If I'm correct then, it should hardly even be noon yet."

The brunet realized his point a tad slower than usual, having been a little too engrossed in training to notice. Instead of milder sun rays that signaled an easy winter morning, the clearing was filled with fleeting orange lights, as if it was already sundown.

Jack's dagger stopped twirling in his hands. "Do you still think the Queen had something to do with the ice? And this too perhaps?" he asked, sheathing the dagger.

Francis narrowed his eyes and called for his horse. Quickly, the grey stallion galloped to its master as Jack's did to him. "Now I'm not so sure. I think we should inform the others."

CLOCKS AND SUNDIALS

"Sundials are better than clocks."

William frowned. "No, Edmund, you idiot. Clocks are more accurate."

The two young princes were out on one of the castle's gardens, debating about which is better in telling the time—the newly invented clock or the Greek sundial—both time pieces laid flat on the turf. Of course, William kept pointing out that sundials weren't universal, but Edmund would retort with a "but so are clocks, unless you already know the time and do a bit of tinkering with the hands."

Both were inwardly frustrated and neither wanted to back off. Suddenly, Edmund's sundial on the garden floor had its shadow turning faster than usual. William was shocked, and he quickly looked at the time tower just to the right of the gardens. It hadn't moved a minute.

"Well, I guess this ends our debate then?"

The older prince gaped as the sky started turning into a dark blue faster than what he can remember to be normal. "If this is the end of the world then I guess it does end our debate," said the Borgin heir, still gaping at the fast-changing hues of the sky.

THE TIME TO THAW

Two horses exited the walls of the kingdom in extreme haste. The moon was already out, clear and white it hung on the open, cloudless sky. It outshone the other heavenly bodies that rested beside it on the vast firmament.

Anna rode alongside her sister, bronze horseshoes violently striking the cobblestones and cutting what was left of the winter blanket. Elsa watched in a mixture of confusion, anxiety, and sheer horror as the great lake of their kingdom quickly thawed as they rode over the stone bridge. Freeing one hand, she sent a jet of ice to the lake in an effort to mend the cracks and splits. It felt like existing in one of her awful dreams. The ice cracked loudly, as the white concrete sheet separated and once again revealed the unsettling dark blue of the lake. Elsa's eyes widened—the same hands that brought forth an eternal winter once to Arendelle couldn't keep the lake frozen and intact. The cracks spread like webs, connecting, worsening by the second, the Queen's powers of no effect on them.

Gribold's side of the river had obviously thawed, and the lake had been connected once again to the great loch. With that very barrier gone, the northern waters were flowing once again.

_But it was only the second week of winter. _They were supposed to have an entire 5 months of winter on their side. 5 months of a thick blanket of snow, 5 months of angry northern weather, and 5 months of frozen fjords, rivers, and lakes.

But right before their eyes, those five months of winter and safety was already melting.

Both royal stallions thundered past the village and into the woods. The sound of their hooves against the stone floors and dirt roads could be heard as they splashed against the pools of melted snow. Over in a satchel attached to the Queen's horse sat the old leatherback.

Francis held the reins of his horse tightly as they reached the border of the forest. The moon was already up, and they had only been riding from the clearing about five minutes ago. _Impossible. _

In the hastiness of riding, long branches ripped their tunics, and one particular twig created a shallow cut on Jack's right cheek.

Both reached for their weapons as they heard the sound of fast-moving hooves from the village. Jack unsheathed one of his daggers, brows furrowed at the two unknown riders.

His blue eyes turned wide when he registered who they were.

"That's Queen Elsa and Princess Anna."

* * *

R&amp;R would help A LOT. Thanks for dropping by, btw. And I'm sorry again! Me and my beta are busy as eff.

Love you for reading. *virtual hug*


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